


To the North: A Christmas Fic

by Coyotebee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Elves, Fantasy, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coyotebee/pseuds/Coyotebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was waiting for Santa Claus to come, and instead finds an elf called Louis. Louis soon vanishes and Harry's determined to meet him again.</p><p>Inspired by <a href="http://gloubear.tumblr.com/post/66736042237/gloubear-ok-but-does-he-not-look-like-a-little">the prompt</a> by <a href="http://thatkaitykid.tumblr.com">ThatKaityKid</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis the season. :)

Harry will stay awake.

He plops himself on the staircase, where through the banister, he can see into the living room and the Christmas tree that stands in it. For the first hour of the wait he's fine. Determination and a trace of desperation keeps him alert.

On the last day of school before the holidays, he and his friends began discussing presents. Harry was in the middle of telling them what he wanted from Santa Claus, when Dominic scoffed and exclaimed, "Harry! You still think Santa is real?"

"What? He _is_ real, Dom!"

"No, he isn't! Gabriel, do you think Santa's real?"

"No, we're a whole _eleven-years-old._ We're far too old to believe in Santa."

"He's... he's real. I know he's real..." Harry said with less confidence, trying not to frown.

So here he is, on Christmas Eve, waiting to see Father Christmas appear to prove to Dominic and Gabriel that _yes_ , he's real. All those songs about him come from somewhere.

Another hour passes, and the mission becomes difficult. Harry's head lolls against the railing, and soon, he's fallen asleep.

A thump, soft and far away, is enough to wake him back up. He starts, remembers where he is, and down by the tree...

A boy is leaning into the fireplace, twisting his head to look up into the chimney. He wears a rumpled green hat with a pointed tip that flops at the back of his head.

He comes out and stands upright. He's probably taller than Harry, not really the size of the elves in the stories, as it turns out.

The tree's lights score the curves of the elf boy's face, and Harry can see how fine his features are, the lips and the eyes. The elf sticks his head into the chimney again, maybe checking if Santa Claus needs help climbing down.

Harry quickly realizes the elf must me checking if he needs help climbing _up_ the chimney instead, because under the tree, are the presents, stacked and wrapped up.

The elf steps out again, looks over the gifts, then scuttles over to the coffee table.

There, Harry had left Father Christmas a plate of biscuits that he made himself. They're gone now. Other than the plate, there's a small platter of leftover vegetables his mother forgot to put into the fridge.

This is what the elf boy goes for.

Dried celery sticks, slices of carrot, and cauliflower are on the platter, and the boy chooses a carrot. He cracks it between his teeth. He munches, peering about the room all wide-eyed and innocently sneaky. He completely misses Harry, who has slid himself halfway down the stairs.

The elf steps over to the tree. He pokes at one present, shifting it slightly so it would have more of an angle to it, then he goes to straighten the bow on another. While he's doing this, Harry slinks all the way down the stairs and onto the floor, planning on saying hello.

Harry opens his mouth, and right then, the elf boy turns a little, jumps, then whips his head around to see who's there in the room with him. He gasps at Harry.

Before his gasp finishes, he disappears. Flicks right out of existence.

No matter where he went, Father Christmas must still be near the house. Harry rushes over to the fireplace and looks up into the shaft. It's far too dark to see anything in there.

But it's okay. The glimpse of the elf was enough.

Harry's warm all over and buzzing. He would think his delight is from knowing that Santa and the elves are real, that he can tell daft Dominic that he's dafter than before, were it not for the elf's lasting impression. Harry pictures him in his mind, and wants to kiss his taut little cheeks and tease him by bopping his nose.

To do this, he would need to find a way to see him again.

Once he's in bed, he thinks of how he can do this. The solution comes to him swiftly -- a letter to Father Christmas, of course.

Harry has the patience to wait until next November when wish lists are usually written, but he wants to be sure that Father Christmas remembers what he would like the whole year 'round. He will write to him tomorrow, then send him reminders throughout the months until next winter.

In the afternoon, once presents are opened and he gets a half hour to himself, he writes the letter.

_Dear Father Christmas or Santa Claus or whatever you like being called,_

_I don't need anything for Christmas next year except for one thing: I would like a visit from the elf you came to my house with. Please and thank you. I hope you have a good holiday. I like your beard. It reminds me of marshmallows._

_Harry Styles_

Harry has never sent a letter off himself, but he's very sure he's doing it right: He writes "Father Christmas. North Pole" on the envelope, presses a stamp to it, and there, it will get to him for sure. Out in his blue boots and beanie, he drops it into the mailbox two blocks away.

***

At the end of every season, Harry sends out another letter to Father Christmas. He once tried to ask for a reply. None came. His hopes weren't dashed, however.

The next Christmas, Harry, now two inches taller, falls asleep on the couch. Under his blanket, he had a bag of biscuits just for the elf boy, hid away so Santa wouldn't take them.

He's okay with falling asleep this year. He's sure that he'd be woken up for the visit. Or maybe in the morning, the elf boy would be waiting in big box for him.

However, Harry wakes up when Gemma is on the floor, noisily unwrapping one of her presents.

Under the tree, the boxes are all too small for an elf to fit in them.

Even though Harry asked for nothing for Christmas, there are gifts there with his name on the tags. Father Christmas didn't want to disappoint him entirely.

Harry gets two video games, a CD, a book about singing, and other little things that he considers as very good presents. One thing he doesn't have much desire for is the pair of green mittens. When he tries them on though, he feels a piece of paper in them. He drags it out and reads it: 

_Harry_

_I'm very, very sorry to tell you this, my dear boy: My elves are not allowed to visit humans. It is not because I want to make you sad or angry, it is because elves are special beings whose secrets must be kept._

_What I can offer you, are these mittens. They are the ones worn by the elf you saw. I hope you are pleased with this. Happy Christmas, Harry._

_Father Christmas_

***

Harry is happy enough on that Christmas day. He wears the mittens the whole day and during dinner (his mother implored him to take them off the whole time). Once he goes to bed, he pictures the elf in his mind, what he could be up to at that time, and how pretty his face is.

In the middle of the night, Harry shivers into consciousness. He bunches up the blankets around him. A gust of cold air crawls over his arms, and he opens his eyes to figure out why that is.

The window is open. Climbing out of it, is the elf.

It's too sudden to excite Harry -- he's frightened first. He's glad he doesn't yelp and wake up his family.

"Hello!" the elf says in a bright whisper. "Get your boots and jacket on!"

"Hi... Hi..." Harry drags out from his mouth.

"Hello!" the elf says again, and goes over to Harry and grabs his arm.

Through Harry's shirt, he can feel the elf's heat, and heat it really was. It was more intense than warmth. The elf nudges him upwards and Harry obliges.

"Come on, Harry," the elf says, grinning mischievously.

"I'm so happy you've come," Harry says then makes a little leap toward the boy and gets his arms around him for a hug. The elf jumps, but leans into Harry soon after. Harry's cheek grazes his pointed ear, and he notices the heat again.

"I'm Louis, by the way."

Harry smiles, pleased to finally know the elf's name.

"So did Father Christmas change his mind?" he asks.

Louis wiggles his eyebrows and puts a finger on his mouth. "He doesn't know I'm here," he says with delight. "He told me about your letter when he asked for my mittens. He wouldn't have let me come if I didn't sneak my way out."

"Oh, thank you for doing that," Harry says. "You really didn't have to... I feel guilty now..."

"Don't. I've been dying to tell someone about what I do! Not even my family knows, and they'll never get to. It's very secret, all this. But I trust you. I can just tell you won't tell anyone about me. Why would Father Christmas give you my mittens in the first place?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's right. I won't tell," Harry states. "So... your family is human?"

"Yes, and I'm human too. Originally, anyway. I didn't _mean_ to become an elf. It was by accident -- when I was eight, I fell into some snow. Got completely buried in it even though there wasn't even an inch on the ground... When crawled out of it and I was in the North Pole!"

Harry blinks in fascination.

"Now let's go. Before your parents wake up," Louis says.

"Where are we going?"

"To the North Pole, obviously!"

Harry asks how cold it would be, and bizarrely, Louis states that all he really needs is a good jacket, thick socks, and a pair of boots. He tells Harry to leave his mitts there. Harry's also a little concerned about the time too.

To this, Louis says, "Oh, don't worry! Time goes still once you're in the North Pole. You'll come back here, and it'll be the same time as it was when you left. That's how elves manage to sneak out from their homes to work, you know."

"You don't live up in the North Pole?"

"Most don't. I don't either. I live with my mum and two sisters here in England."

"How do you hide your ears from them all the time, if being an elf is supposed to be secret?"

"Easy. All elves can make themselves go back to their human form whenever they want."

In Harry's backyard, a reindeer is waiting for them.

"Wow!" Harry says, eyes bright.

Reindeer aren't as lean as Harry thought. Its coat is fluffy, especially at the throat.

"Which one is this? Dasher? Prancer? I know it's not Rudolph," Harry says.

"Nope, this is Gary."

" _Gary?_ "

"Gary."

"Are we riding him?"

"Not on this journey. I only rode him over here because he remembered where you live. We're going to to the North Pole in a different way..." Louis peers at the ground. "I just... need some snow."

Louis starts to dust himself, though the brown tunic he wears is clean. He does his arms. Snow comes billowing off of them. He sweeps his thighs and stomach, and more of the flakes appear, floating their way down onto the dead grass.

"Travelling to work must be so much easier for the Icelandic and Canadian elves," Louis says during the process. "Snow is everywhere for them. They don't need to make it."

Harry stares and smiles. He brings out his hand and some of the snow settles onto his palm, melting almost immediately.

Quickly enough, the snow builds into a pile. The last bundle of it comes from the inside of Louis' hat -- he takes it off and jiggles it over the ground. After this, Louis kneels by the pile, and brushes it into a ring. Underneath the snow that he moves away, is ice.

"You can do the honours," Louis says to Harry and points to the patch of ice. "Smash it with your fist."

Harry's willing but cautious as he lifts up his arm and calculates the power of the swing he'd need. His hand smacks the ice and it cracks away clean... and falls down into the hole it was apparently covering. It's the opening to a tunnel.

"Gary! Come on, Gary!" Louis says to the reindeer, whose simply been sniffing a bird-feeder hanging off a tree. "Over here, you daft thing!" Louis adds when the reindeer doesn't move.

Gary trots over, and Louis grips the fur at his collar. Gary makes a little leap into the tunnel, and the thump of his landing sounds close to the surface, which comforts Harry.

"Your turn," Louis says with a wide grin. He rubs Harry's back a few times, and urges him to the edge of the hole.

Harry jumps. He lands perfectly fine into some snow, and in front of him, the tunnel stretches out, with the deer is slowly moving ahead. It's much, much colder down here, impossibly so.

A moment later, Louis joins them. He takes Harry by the hand. His teeth clench up as he does it, a shiver going through him, but he recovers in no time, and says, "So long as you're touching me, you'll keep warm."

And it's true. Harry feels the heat of Louis' fingers travel through his arm and spread everywhere from his shoulder. He's pretty sure he's even toastier because he's so excited that Louis is touching him like this.

They walk forward. It's not long before they reach a snow staircase. The reindeer is awkwardly making his way up, which makes both Harry and Louis laugh. They follow him, and it gets brighter and brighter. The snow goes from grey to pure white, the moon lighting it up.

They emerge from the tunnel.

"Whoa... Whoa... It's beautiful here..." Harry says.

The landscape is all snow and no hills whatsoever. The night sky cuts the view in half, darkness on top, and shimmering white below. Harry soon discovers the snowy expanse isn't completely barren once Louis turns him around.

A palace stands tall. It's white and the spires are light blue or silver. Around it, are short square houses. White light comes through their windows. Harry's holding his breath.

"I'll show you around. First though..." Louis says and digs into his pocket. He tugs out a hat like his own. "This is to cover your ears," Louis says and tucks it amongst Harry's curls.

Louis leads him into the village.


	2. Chapter 2

In the village, there are so much more colours than what Harry had seen from outside. Red and green bulbs spiral around the street signs, and bits of bright wrapping paper and tinsel occasionally roll over their feet. Elves are scattered about, but most are indoors. Harry can see them through the windows -- most of them clean things. They stack boxes or they're putting their tools into their proper drawers.

"The busiest time of the season is over. It's calmer now, but gift-making is a year-round job," Louis explains.

A sleigh glides by them, pulled by two reindeer. Harry peeks at their faces, to see if one has a red nose, but they both have normal ones.

"Where are you headed?" Louis asks the elf who's steering.

"To the palace," the elf replies.

"We're going with you, if you don't mind!" Louis chirps and springs himself into the carriage, Harry not far behind. Louis doesn't have to keep hold of him anymore -- the village is warmer, and Harry's coat is enough to keep back any chill.

The reindeer pulls them through more streets. 

"If you become an elf, do you have to be one forever?" Harry whispers to Louis, noticing that this elf in front of them is going grey.

Louis cups Harry's ear as he says, "No, but they like young ones like me to stay until we get tall. We're the ones who travel with Father Christmas as he gives out the presents. We tend to be small enough to fit between him and all the bags on his sleigh."

"How long do you want to be an elf for?"

"I don't know. I like riding around the world though, and once I'm too big, I'll mostly be making gifts. I just turned fifteen, so that might be soon. I'll probably get bored, to be honest."

Somewhere to the west of them, there's carolling and it continues as they get closer to the palace. They slip off the sleigh, and enter from a side gate.

Louis skips ahead of Harry, the tip of his hat bobbing as he goes.

They walk into an enormous room, filled with stuffed animals. They line every shelf, all different sizes.

"We're always in good supply of these," Louis says.

They stroll through many rooms. Louis is particularly excited about showing him how they make action hero figurines. A few elves in there are piecing their torso and legs together, and one paints. They go on, and enter a wing completely dedicated to sorting through the letters to Father Christmas and listing wishes.

Louis grabs a folder from a nearby cabinet, and opens it up. "Here is... your sister Gemma," Louis says. "Father Christmas has marked her behaviour as good for today. She let you have the last cupcake, and she helped her mother clean the kitchen. But, she said something rather mean and sarcastic about her friend."

Harry laughs. "Is mine there?"

"Oh, not allowed!" Louis says teasingly and slams his back against the cabinet so Harry can't get to it. 

The tour continues. Harry smiles the whole time, and when he isn't, it's because his mouth is agape in wonder.

As great as everything is, Harry's favourite part is when they sit down to have peppermint tea and biscuits. They're at the top of a tower, and through the window, they can see the village and the landscape beyond it. Reindeer run through the snow. Some take a leap and suspend themselves in the air for a few seconds, and stamp back down on the ground. To add to the picture, the emerald waves of the northern lights swish above the palace.

It's all very beautiful, but Harry's now more taken with the person he's with. Louis peers into the sky, and Harry watches his face, how his smile never completely fades.

Harry might be in love with him. Louis has been telling him all sorts of stories, about his family and friends back in England. He can tell he adores his sisters -- Louis says that he smuggled in extra presents for them when Santa and him delivered to his house -- and this makes Harry like him more. He's fun as well, says some good jokes, and he enjoys putting his arm around Harry's waist as they walk. When this visit is over, Harry can't wait to see him next, to meet somewhere in England for a weekend.

"Are you tired? Do you want to go soon?" Louis asks.

"I'm not tired. I want to sit here for a while more."

"Okay, we can do that," Louis says. A moment later, his shoulders squeeze together.

"Cold?" Harry asks.

"Actually -- I have one more thing for us to do, and we should do it right now, while the reindeer are out," Louis says.

Harry agrees, and Louis brings him outside, where the reindeer are gathered. Gary dashes over to them.

"Don't be so obvious, Gary! We're trying to be stealthy!" Louis scolds him and glances toward the palace, making sure no one is looking.

Louis and Harry go back to the tunnel they came from and send Gary in first. They head in and they arrive in Harry's backyard as before. Nothing's changed about it. It's as dark and cold.

"Let's ride!" Louis declares.

Gary stoops down and Louis lifts himself onto his back.

"I'm afraid to fall off," Harry admits, staying still.

"Oh, you won't fall. You definitely won't fall," Louis says. "Christmas magic, you know?"

"If you say so," Harry says and gets onto the reindeer's back. As he makes himself comfortable, Louis shudders. So elves do get cold at times, Harry figures.

"Go, Gary!" Louis exclaims, and Gary leg's begin stamping at the ground.

Harry's scared and he pulls his whole front against Louis. His nose goes close to his neck, so he gets a hint of his smell - of candy cane and apple cider.

They rise into the sky, and Louis laughs into the wind. Holmes Chapel becomes a stream of lights below. As high as they are, the moon is still above them, and because of it, the ground is never completely dark. Harry can see patches of shadow where the trees are, and the funny rounded shapes of the fields.

Once they're up, the reindeer moves fast. His antlers are the only thing that's not flapping away like a flag. Otherwise, his fur is blown flat, along with the cuffs of Harry and Louis' trousers. Harry's hood rustles incessantly behind him.

They fly over a small lake, frozen at the edges and glimmering at the centre. They get past a few towns, then everything glimmers -- there's fresh snow, just a paper-thin layer.

Up ahead, is Manchester.

The skyscrapers glow, and nearly all the streets are illuminated by the street lights. It's all oranges and yellows, and with the moonlight, there's silver on some of the rooftops. Harry turns his head and smiles into Louis' hair.

Though far above the city, Harry feels closer to it than if he were on the ground. He can see it all, is why.

Manchester gets left behind for more towns and countryside. In one field, they spot something moving -- a red deer is running, trying to follow them. Louis waves at it.

"I'll remember you! You'll come to the North Pole next year! Don't be sad!" Louis shouts.

They continue on. The reindeer makes turns sometimes. Keeping balance is surprisingly easy when it happens. This whole ride has been easy. Something unknown has been holding Louis and Harry in place, no matter what curves and dives the reindeer decides to make. Even so, Harry doesn't let go of Louis completely.

A different sight arrives. Sticking out in the middle of a snowy plain, is a castle. Harry almost laughs at how dismal it is compared to the one in the North Pole.

"Harry... try something out... Trust me, you won't fall," Louis says.

Louis takes one of Harry's hands, and wriggles his fingers off his waist. He guides Harry's arm outward by the wrist, stretching it as far as it will go, off to the side. Louis holds it there steadily.

Harry realizes what Louis wants him to do -- he opens his hand to feel the wind weave between every finger and rush over every knuckle. This is what it's like to really touch the sky.

***

They've returned to Harry's home again.

"That was amazing, Louis... Thank you so much for visiting me," Harry says.

"It was loads of fun, Harry. You're great to be around," Louis says, but Harry's disturbed by how, for the first time, his smile seems forced.

"I'm sorry for what's about to happen now," Louis then says, looking at his feet, hands shoved into his pockets. "This is the only time we'll be seeing each other."

"What?"

"See..." Louis places his hand on Harry's. It's the opposite of what it was when he first touched him -- his skin is absolutely icy.

"I've been getting cold," Louis explains. "I'll get colder the longer I'm near you, too cold to live. That's what happens. It's just the way it is, with elves and humans who see each other. It's the way to keep us hidden."

"I don't understand. You said you live with your family, that you have human friends -- don't you get cold around them?"

"None of them know I'm an elf, unlike you."

Harry shakes his head. "What about when you're human again?"

"It'll be the same."

"There must be something we can do. Can Santa do anything?"

"You can try, Harry. I'm not sure what would work."

Harry's going into a panic. His mind leaps for solutions.

"What if..." he says. "What if I ask to be an elf?"

"No, then both of us will freeze up whenever we're near each other."

Harry takes a deep breath and looks away from Louis, into the neighbour's backyard. They're quiet for a little while. Gary's drags his feet along the grass and Louis fiddles with his hat.

"I'm sending you a present every year then. And a letter. At least I can do that, right?" Harry says.

"That'd be nice, Harry," Louis says, smiling appreciatively, but dimly. It's not the same as spending time with each other.

"You don't have to give me any presents either, if it's not allowed."

"It isn't," Louis says. "But I have a present for you right now. One present from me, at least. I'm... I'm not sure if you'll like it though..."

Harry brightens somewhat. "I'm not hard to please."

Louis laughs in embarrassment and puts his hands back in his pockets. "No, this is a different sort of present."

Harry peers at Louis' pockets, waiting for him to pull something out from one of them.

"Oh, it's not in there," Louis says, noticing where Harry's looking.

"Where is it then?"

"Right here."

Louis points to his own lips.

"Oh," Harry says trying not to show an excessive amount of excitement.

"W-would you like it?"

"Yes."

Their kiss isn't a grand one like the ones in the films. It's little more than a peck, but Harry's never gotten a kiss before, so he's satisfied with it. He would be more than satisfied with it though, he'd be thoroughly pleased, if he knew Louis wasn't leaving him forever and his lips were warmer against his own. They're too cool, and when they pull away from each other, he sees they're slightly blue.

"Thank you," Harry says.

"Goodbye, Harry," Louis says sweetly, and squeezes Harry's arm.

"Louis..."

Louis turns away, and hops onto the reindeer.

***

Harry writes to Father Christmas the very next day. He asks him if he can do something to let Louis visit again.

No reply ever arrives.

Christmas after Christmas passes away, and for each one, Harry writes nothing on his wish list, and instead leaves a note that he'd like Santa to bring gifts to Louis. The first year he wrote this, he still received a bundle of presents. He opened them, but what he did was give them to others -- to his friends, to his relatives, to anybody he knew. In the winter that followed, he left another note under the tree, telling Father Christmas what he did.

Maybe Father Christmas thought he was too kind for doing this, because the presents continued to appear under the tree. Without second thoughts, Harry gave them away every time.

He let Dominic have his X-Box games. A pair of sunglasses went to Gemma. A football went to his cousin. These were some of the things Harry really wanted, and he didn't let himself keep any of them. In the first few Christmases, he mainly did this to make his point -- he was trading his presents to have Louis. He wanted Santa to know he was very serious about all this.

In that time, Harry grows taller. His hair becomes curlier. He doesn't play hide-and-seek anymore, instead, he plays golf or football. He knows more -- he can solve algebra problems and list the themes of _The Great Gatsby_ , and he's fairly certain he would like to be a physiotherapist in the future. And he's gone from baking sugar cookies to baking layered cakes without needing the recipe laid out on the counter for every stage of the process.

After the fourth winter of Louis' absence, Harry's now certain they'll never meet again. It's been such a long time. The day after Christmas, he tries on Louis' mittens and realizes his hands don't fit in them anymore. 

Over the year, Harry is able to loosen Louis' hold over him. He believes that Louis would want him to do this, to stop pining for something that will never happen. So Harry doesn't think about their night together as much, or look out into the sky in case Gary and Louis are up there, flying down to him. Even so, Harry doesn't stop sending little things to him for Christmas.

On the fifth Christmas, Harry unwraps his gifts as usual. He does it with more relish than before. By now, he deserves a few things for himself.

The best thing in this year's array is the guitar. He opens up the case, and strums the two chords he knows. He's been singing with a band for a while now, and now this would let him perform on his own too.

A few days later, Gabriel comes over, and Harry plays the instrument while his friend sings along. Eventually, Gabriel asks to play it too, and Harry's happy to pass it over to him, knowing he's been itching to try it.

Gabriel plays it for an hour. His hands shake as they form the chords because he's so new at it. Harry smiles as he practices because Gabriel has been wanting a guitar of his own for ages, but his parents aren't well-off enough to get him one.

At the end of the visit, Harry takes the guitar away from his friend. The liveliness in Gabriel's eyes fade instantly, and Harry feels a pinch in his chest.

Before Gabriel leaves, Harry ends up asking, "Do you want my guitar? I don't... I don't really need it. I can save up for one anyway -- I have that job at the bakery."

After that, Harry keeps giving away his own presents every Christmas, even though it does nothing to bring Louis back to him. It feels good in itself. It makes him think that, maybe, the reason Louis ever became part of his life at all, wasn't so that he could be in love. The real purpose was to have him care about things beyond himself.

Harry is okay with that.


	3. Chapter 3

More years go by, which brings more changes. Harry's cheeks aren't so cherubic anymore, and he knows what a hangover feels like, and he's only home for the odd weekend and for holidays. The Christmas season arrives yet again, and Harry is nineteen this time around. Nothing special happens.

That is, until the morning. Gemma goes down to the living room and inspects the presents, reading the tags hanging off of them.

From the kitchen, Harry hears her say, "Oh my God! Harry! Come over here and open up your present right now! I have to know what's in it!"

Harry goes into their living room, and Gemma is pointing to a golden box by the tree.

"So bizarre... Go feel it," Gemma says.

Harry picks it up and has to put it down after a few seconds because it's ice cold. This has to do with Louis, he knows it.

He tears the wrapping, lets the pieces fly all over the room to reveal a metal box, and within that box...

Snow.

"How did it not melt?" Gemma asks.

Harry immediately goes outside, Gemma asking him other questions on his way out. He leaves her at the door.

On the grass, he dumps the snow on the ground. He starts to sweep the snow into a ring, how Louis did it seven years ago. He's sure this is what he's expected to do.

As he brushes the snow, however, it seems to multiply. Every handful he shifts, it expands three times the original amount. Harry fights against it by frantically pushing the heaps out of the way to make the circle.

It doesn't work, but Harry keeps trying. He can hardly feel his fingers. A minute in, the snow is a pile half the size of his bed.

Harry steps back and peers at it in confusion and worry. Maybe he's done something wrong.

He hears a noisy breath from behind him. He whips around to find a reindeer there.

"Gary? Gary!" Harry says. "Is Louis with -- OOF!"

The reindeer shoves his snout into Harry's stomach, making him fall backward onto the snow pile.

"Oww! OW!" a muffled voice says from beneath Harry.

Harry feels movement under his back. A hand is shoving him upward. Harry hoists himself up.

"This is quite a painful way to wake up, you know!"

Harry stares at the snow, and sees two short legs wiggling out from the pile and a pair of struggling arms.

"Louis!" Harry exclaims and starts to dig into the snow. He gets quite a bit off, then he takes Louis' arm and lifts him.

The snow slides off Louis, though some stays in the folds of his jacket.

Harry and Louis simply stand opposite each other at first, grinning away. Harry inspects him. Louis definitely looks the twenty-two years of age he would be by now -- his cheeks have sharpened and his shoulders are broader. Along with Harry, he's grown into a man. But Harry mostly notices how tiny he is. He can see the traces of snow at the very top of his head. He brings his hand up and brushes it out.

Once Harry's done, Louis takes Harry's hand and squeezes it tight.

Harry frowns. "You're cold."

But Louis keeps beaming at him.

"Not for the reason you think," he says. "Father Christmas found a way to keep me warm around you, and now here I am. I'm only cold because I'm not an elf anymore. Permanently not an elf. Which means it'll take hours for me to warm up now that I'm back to being human."

Harry glances at Louis ears and sees that they're indeed normal-looking.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you. Seriously," Harry says.

"Me neither," Louis says. "But Father Christmas saw all that you've been doing and thought you should have something in return. Which is me!"

Delighted, Harry pummels into Louis for a hug and mumbles things about how happy he is to see him. He can feel him shivering against his chest.

"Come inside my house. Warm up," Harry says. Louis agrees.

Gary tries to follow them, so Louis has to shoo him away. Gary huffs.

Harry wants Louis to himself for now, so they sneak upstairs to avoid the introductions to his family, who would be extremely confused by the appearance of a friend Harry had never mentioned before.

Harry has Louis settle on his bed, and he throws every blanket he has on him. He goes downstairs for a couple minutes and comes back up with a mug of cocoa.

"Thank you!" says Louis and sips it.

Harry is amazed by the sight. This is Louis. In his home. And he could stay there for a long time.

"So Harry," Louis says. "I'll start missing the snow, now that I won't be in the North Pole. We should go somewhere together soon and see snowy mountains."

"I'd love to do that," Harry says.

Hearing Louis make these plans, Harry sees his future changing into something else, something much brighter. All that was up ahead before, were university classes and dull parties, but now Louis was in it.

"There's so much we can do, really," Harry adds. "You're here for good."

"I am..." Louis says, and reaches for Harry's arm. He tugs him over. Harry buries himself under the blankets with Louis, and Harry realizes the boy has retained his minty and sweet scent.

"You're still shivering," Harry says.

"Then warm me up, you idiot," Louis says and drags Harry right up against him.

They both lay on their side, noses almost touching and their legs intertwined. Harry gently drags his palm up and down Louis' spine to warm him. At this, Louis makes a light little hum of contentment. Harry gets even closer to him by kissing him -- little pecks scattered on his cheeks, just like Harry planned to do when he was eleven years old.

Louis stops him with a proper kiss, marking the beginning of their time together. Harry's happy to find that his lips are warm.


End file.
